


let me put my hands on you [in your skin tight jeans]

by pagan_mint



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 4
Genre: College AU, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluffier Than Cotton Candy, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, Slice of Life, nsfw-ish, rating to be safe, warning: sorta gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7747354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagan_mint/pseuds/pagan_mint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes love isn’t bouquets of flowers and fine wine and romantic speeches. Sometimes, it’s him invading your home after the worst day of your life, and homemade fried rice, and crappy horror movies.</p><p>Sometimes, it’s the simple things that get you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me put my hands on you [in your skin tight jeans]

**Author's Note:**

> Title lyrics modified from "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry!
> 
> this was just a character sketch/drabble and then it became 7k words. I'm placing myself under arrest

Rabi Ray Rana, notorious college campus DJ and radio personality, had been in his bed for 15 hours and 37 minutes when someone knocked on his door.

“Rabi,” one of his three flatmates called from out in the hallway. “Ajay’s here to see you.”

Rabi burrowed out from underneath his blankets just enough to be audible. “Tell him to go away,” he shouted, trying to sound more angry than despairing. There were a few moments of silence; then the flatmate called out again.

“He says if you don’t open the door he’s gonna kick it down.”

“Ajay wouldn’t say that,” Rabi snapped back, and received a nasty surprise when something made a sharp enough impact with his door to make it physically shake in its frame. Forced into action, he struggled out of his bed, shucking off covers and nearly tripping on his comforter as it tangled around his foot. “Okay, okay, I’m coming! Cool it!”

He didn’t get the chance to say so much as “fuck off” before Ajay was pushing his way past him and into his room. “I heard what happened. Are you okay? Shit, your room’s even messier than usual. You were wearing that outfit last night. You haven’t changed, have you?”

Rabi glanced wildly at Ajay prowling his room before turning an accusatory glance on his housemate. “Chotu, why the hell would you even let him in our apartment?!”

“Because if you’re left to your own devices, this happens.” The heavyset young man made an expansive gesture that encompassed less of Rabi’s room and more of Rabi himself. “You don’t handle personal incidents very well. Anyway, I’ve gotta run to wrestling practice. Make sure he eats something,” he called past Rabi, then slung a hoodie over his shoulder and departed. Rabi flinched, slowly turning to face Ajay.

A steely brown gaze met his own sleep-deprived one, Ajay’s hands on his hips in a distinctly accusatory pose. “You haven’t eaten,” his friend said, and it was a statement of fact rather than a question. The tone it was spoken in made it a reprimand.

“I, uh - no. I didn’t really - I felt kinda - ”

Ajay pointed at the door to his room. “Take a shower,” he snapped. “If you come out before thirty minutes are up, I’m going to shove your ass back in there.”

“Okay, okay! Jeeze,” Rabi barked back, sounding huffier than he actually felt. “Fine. Whatever. Just, like - don’t touch anything.”

His clothes weren’t dirty or sticky, but he still felt like he was peeling them off his body, his skin prickling as he exposed it to the steam coming from the shower. The water was too hot when he stepped into it, but he didn’t turn the temperature down; his body would adjust to the heat soon enough, and for the time being it felt more real than anything else had in the last 24 hours of his life. He almost didn’t believe that Ajay was really there; maybe he’d dreamed Ajay had come over, which wouldn’t be too far-fetched. Ajay was practically all Rabi thought about these days - the way he moved his hands when he talked, the low-high-low timbre of his voice, the fine bones in his face, and the cut of his hips, sometimes visible when his shirt rode up when he was bending over or reaching for something. Heedless of the way the water pounded against his skin and poured through his hair into his face, Rabi leaned forward, bracing one soap-slicked hand against the wall of the shower while the other reached for his dick.

He had read on some popular online blog site one time that masturbation was a good way to relieve stress and release endorphins, so he told himself that was why he was doing it, even while imagining that the heat of the water and the friction of his hand were something else entirely. He was usually pretty vocal about his release, but this time it just came out as a breathless laugh, which turned into a sputter halfway through as he inhaled some water by accident. The mood broken, he scrubbed up with some of Chotu’s shower gel, because he was out of his own and hadn’t bothered to go to the store recently to pick up more. It tingled and smelled like cinnamon, lingering on his skin even after he rinsed it off and clashing with the citrus scent of his combination shampoo-conditioner.

A good forty-five minutes had passed by the time Rabi emerged from the shower, the bathroom full of enough steam to pass as a sauna. He toweled his hair dry, then his body, and finally used it to wipe the collected smog off the bathroom mirror before wrapping the now sodden fabric around his waist. He still looked tired, but a little healthier, his dark skin visibly flushed from the hot water and the bags under his eyes gone for the time being.

“I guess that’ll do, for now,” he muttered at his reflection, then headed for his room to find a change of clothes.

He stopped abruptly in the doorway of his bedroom, a little shocked at the sight that greeted him. The sheets on his bed had been changed, and his reversible comforter had been turned over so that the clean side was up. Even his body and armchair pillows were propped up against the wall, his spare blankets folded and neatly draped over the footboard of his bed. All the laundry that had been covering his floor was stuffed into the hamper in his closet, and whatever remained had been tidied and re-arranged without invading his privacy.

“I thought I told you not to touch anything,” he murmured faintly, coming to the simultaneous realization that Ajay’s invasion had not been a dream, and also that the man he’d jacked off to thoughts of had been handling his dirty underwear. “Don’t you listen?”

“Not to you,” Ajay said, approaching from down the hall. Rabi startled at the unexpected response, clutching at his towel like a shocked Southern belle at her pearls. “Calm down, I just came to bring you this.” Rabi lifted his free hand to accept the glass of cold water Ajay pressed into it. “I thought it would be nice after a long, hot shower. Plus, you’ve probably been too busy wallowing to remember to hydrate. Get dressed, drink that, then come out to your kitchen. Bring the cup, too, so I can wash it.” And with that, he was gone again, leaving Rabi to stare after him before he remembered that he was standing in the hallway in nothing but a towel.

Patterned black harem-style sweatpants and a bright yellow hooded sweatshirt were the first clothes he found after pulling on some underwear. He toyed briefly with the idea of putting a shirt on underneath the hoodie, but ended up discarding it on the premise that extra clothes meant extra laundry. Pulling on the sweatshirt, he pushed back the hood, tousling his still-damp hair with one hand. Picking up the glass of water, he chugged it as fast as he could; then, giving a resigned sigh, he padded out the door and down the hall.

Ajay was cooking real food in the kitchen, looking for all the world like he actually lived there. He was probably more acquainted with Rabi’s kitchen than the DJ was, honestly; he made up for the amount of time he spent at his friend’s apartment by cooking and cleaning for Rabi and his roommates like he was their maid or something. Rabi had told him multiple times that he didn’t need to do it, but Ajay could be very hard of hearing when he chose to, and so his contributions to their household continued.

“Hey,” he said, catching a glimpse of Rabi out of the corner of his eye. “I’m making fried rice - that’s your favorite, right?”

“Right,” Rabi answered him, unable to force enthusiasm into his voice. Rather than take a seat at the dining room table, he hoisted himself up onto one of the countertops that Ajay wasn’t using, kicking his bare feet against the lower cabinets.

The two maintained a companionable silence for a long time, Ajay adding ingredients and flavors to the wok on the stove while Rabi tried to steel himself for the inevitable conversation. When the quiet finally became unbearable, he heard Ajay take a breath, and blurted something out before his friend could speak.

“Where’d you get the wok? I didn’t even know we had a wok. It’s not mine. Is it Chotu’s? Chotu seems like the kind of guy who would own a wok. Well, I mean, he doesn’t _really_ , but his girlfriend likes to cook, and she gets him cooking stuff sometimes, so if it’s his wok that makes sense because she probably got it for him.”

“It’s my wok,” Ajay responded when Rabi finally lapsed into silence. “I couldn’t remember if you guys had one, so I brought my own. I wanted to make sure I could make this for you.” Giving the wok and its contents a final toss with a large spoon, he switched the heat on the stove off and turned to face the DJ. “Eating your favorite food really takes the edge off a tough day - like one where you got mugged, for example.”

Rabi’s face heated up faster than he would’ve thought possible. “You know, I don’t really want to talk about it - ” he started, but any further objections choked themselves off and died somewhere between his throat and his lips as Ajay swept forward and planted his hands on Rabi’s thighs, looking fiercely up into his face.

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna,” he insisted, and all Rabi could think was _holy shit his lips are really close to mine, oh my God, he smells like a Chinese restaurant and that shouldn’t be hot, what’s wrong with me._ “You talk about everything, dumbass, so bottling this up can’t be healthy for you. And Chotu told me you’ve been super down, so don’t try to hide it. You don’t have to tell me about it right now, though,” he added, backing off a little as Rabi’s breathing started to come faster and a little irregularly. “Take your time. I’ll be here all night.”

Rabi quit breathing. “A - all night?” he squeaked, and it wasn’t like Ajay hadn’t done it before, but all he could think about was what had happened earlier in the shower and how he was feeling kind of emotionally vulnerable at the moment, and that a full night of Ajay Ghale was maybe a little more than he could currently handle without making some stupid mistake that he’d regret for the rest of his life.

“Yeah. I’m not leaving you alone,” Ajay told him, sounding a little affronted at the mere suggestion as he pushed away to look for bowls in another cabinet.

“I won’t be alone,” Rabi insisted. “My housemates will be here. I mean, probably. It’s - it’s Friday night, I’m sure they’ll be home eventually. Anyway, you’re always super busy, don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Tonight, my ‘somewhere else to be’ is right here,” Ajay responded, and it sounded like it was easy for him to say, but hearing the words made something get stuck in Rabi’s throat and he had to blink away a sudden onslaught of tears. Ajay didn’t notice, frowning as he clattered through three cabinets in quick succession. “Man, did you guys rearrange your shelves again? Doesn’t that get frustrating?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Rabi choked out. “You know I don’t cook a lot, dude. Take-out and I are tight.”

“Yeah,” Ajay grumbled, crouching down to extract the finally-located dishes from one of the lower cabinets. “Tell me about it. I had to throw away so many fast food wrappers and bags off your desk. Did you know there were even some under your bed?”

“ _Ajay!”_ Rabi yelped. “You looked - you don’t just _look_ under a guy’s _bed!_ That’s where - that’s where we keep _private stuff!”_

“I didn’t look at your porn stash, don’t worry,” Ajay responded vaguely, busy dishing up the fried rice. “Do you wanna eat in here, or in your room?”

“My room,” Rabi said immediately. He felt a lot safer in the familiarity and closed quarters of his favorite space.

“Cool,” Ajay answered, handing him a steaming bowl with a spoon stuck in it. “Wanna play a video game or something?”

Rabi gave him a startled look. “You don’t play video games.”

“Not often,” Ajay responded with a slight laugh. “Like you said, I’m usually pretty busy. But like _I_ said, I’m making the time tonight. If you don’t wanna play games, we can watch a movie? That might be easier, since we’ll be eating.”

“Yeah,” Rabi said. “Sure, that sounds good. Wouldn’t want this fried rice to go to waste. Of course, I’ve never had your fried rice, so it could be terrible.”

Ajay laughed. “Come on, man, I’ve been cooking for years. I think I can handle a dish this simple.”

“Excuse you?” Rabi exclaimed, and launched into a tirade about Asian culture and food that lasted for the duration of them settling on his bed and setting up the TV.

“Do you have a particular movie you want to watch?” Ajay asked. “Or I can just pick something from your Netflix queue.”

Rabi gestured with his spoon. “Whatever, man, don’t interrupt me. I have to defend my favorite dish. I hope you’re aware that rice, fried or not, has a rich history as the staple grain in many Eastern countries - ”

He sputtered as a spoonful of fried rice was introduced to his mouth without warning. “Close your mouth and chew,” Ajay told him sharply, and he did as he was told. His first reaction was one of delight; the fried rice was much better than the stuff he paid actual money to have delivered, if a little heavy on the soy sauce. His second reaction was one of surprise; his spoon was still held firmly in his grasp, which meant that Ajay had just stuck his own spoon in Rabi’s mouth. His third reaction was related to watching Ajay take his own bite from the same spoon without wiping it off first, and one which he found himself grateful his relatively baggy sweatpants hid.

“It’s good,” he said faintly, realizing that Ajay was probably waiting for some form of verbal feedback on his cooking.

“Yeah,” Ajay responded. “I told you so. Now hush up and settle in, I heard this movie’s supposed to be super scary.”

Rabi had seen too many horror movies for the movie in question to be as actually horrifying as it was trying to be, but a few of the better scares still got him nevertheless. It was about halfway through the movie that he realized Ajay wasn’t reacting to any of them, and he grinned in the darkness of his room.

“Aw, dude, did you pick out a movie you’ve already seen so you could act tough in front of me? I guess that’s considerate, but mostly it’s kind of lame.” He waited for an equally jibing response, and was surprised when it didn’t come. “Ajay?”

Grabbing the remote, he paused the movie and looked over at his friend. Ajay was sitting straight up on the bed, his back against the wall and his legs crossed, but his hands were lax and his head was drooping forward. Even as Rabi watched him, however, it jerked back up, so sharply that he actually smacked it against the back wall and cried out a little.

“Ow! Ah, heck. Did I doze off?” He looked over at Rabi and smiled sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of his head. “My bad. Did I miss anything?”

“Yeah,” Rabi murmured, his eyes and attention transfixed but his mouth working on autopilot. “The serial killer got the high school math teacher and the principal, and it turns out they’re going after the school nurse because he’s an ex-surgeon and the serial killer thinks that the metaphorical ‘blood on his hands’ will work as the final ingredient for the ritual sacrifice or some shit. I don’t know why real blood won’t work, it seems kind of convoluted to me, but I think they were about to explain it.”

“Oh. Cool,” Ajay responded, looking like he didn’t think it was particularly cool. In fact, he looked like he’d come close to dropping off again during Rabi’s summary of missed events.

“When did you get up this morning?” the DJ demanded. Ajay shrugged.

“Uh… four-thirty. Had to work the early shift at the café, then finish a homework assignment and head to class.” He shook himself, trying to be more wakeful. “I would’ve called in and come over earlier, but I didn’t hear about what happened to you until way later.”

Rabi had forgotten why Ajay was over, but now he flinched slightly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Ajay asked. Even though he sounded a little more awake he was clearly still tired, because he slumped over to rest his head on Rabi’s shoulder, making his friend freeze in place. “Or text, at least.”

Rabi didn’t respond for a long time, staring blankly at the TV screen across the room where the school nurse was halfway through pulling over a hallway locker to block the serial killer’s path.

“Y’ don’t have to tell me,” Ajay mumbled, sounding half asleep, and his apparent unawareness and the darkness of the room gave Rabi the courage to say what he couldn’t face-to-face.

“I don’t know. I was scared,” he murmured. “Getting mugged was - it was scary! They didn’t have guns, but they had knives, and they didn’t really take my money because I gave it to them because I was _scared_. And then when they left, and it was over, I felt - I felt bad, okay? I felt stupid, and like a coward, like I should’ve fought back or something. And of course I wasn’t gonna tell _you_ ,” he continued, his voice getting louder despite himself as he got more worked up. “Not ‘cause we’re not friends or anything, because we totally are, but like - you’re _cool_ , man. You would’ve fought back, you wouldn’t have let them do what I did. And I didn’t want you to know that I was - that I did that, that I let them get away with it, you know? I was worried you’d think I was stupid, and lame, and not worth your time anymore. I’m not really upset about the money, it’s more that this sort of reinforces what people think of me, what they’ll say. ‘Oh, that’s Rabi, he let muggers take his lunch money, what a wimp.’ Right? You can’t tell me people won’t say that kind of shit. And I know you’re not like that, but even if you didn’t _say_ it I was afraid you’d _think_ it, and I just - I want you to think I’m cool,” he finished weakly.

“Hey,” Ajay said sternly, which was startling because Rabi had thought and half-hoped that he’d drifted off again. “I think you’re cool.”

Rabi bit his lip. “You’re just saying that, man.”

“No, I’m not.” Ajay maneuvered himself from his slouching, half-collapsed state to sit up straight, his eyes glittering in the half-light from the television screen. “Anyone who calls you a coward is a dumbass. You did the right thing, Rabi. You could’ve gotten hurt if you had said no to those guys.”

“Yeah, but if I’d stood up to them, at least I could say I fought for myself,” Rabi snapped, finally coming to the crux of the matter. “I might have gotten kind of beat up, but - ”

“Or you might have gotten killed,” Ajay interrupted him flatly. “Fighting back doesn’t always make you brave. Sometimes, the brave thing to do is knowing you want to fight back but choosing not to, so that you can stay alive and unharmed.” Rabi’s knee jerked against his will as Ajay laid a hand on it. “I don’t care what anyone else says, okay? _I’m_ proud of you.”

Rabi’s breath caught in his chest, and for a long moment he couldn’t speak.

“Oh. Okay,” he said finally, and hit PLAY on the remote because if he hadn’t, he would have gone on to say something really stupid. Something like _I don’t care what anyone else says either, just you_ , or maybe _cool, wanna make out?_  But instead he bit his tongue and let the nurse in the movie finish pulling the lockers over, watched without surprise as the action failed to deter the serial killer, jumped violently as Ajay pushed off the bed and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Rabi blurted, trying and failing to keep a sudden spike of anxiety out of his voice. Ajay laughed, stretching up towards the ceiling, and the DJ couldn’t help staring at the hipbone that the motion revealed, jutting up over the hem of his jeans and cast in sharp shadows as the characters in the movie burst their way into a brightly lit room.

“Tell me you didn’t think I’d make you dinner and skip out on dessert,” Ajay said, sounding hurt. “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry about pausing the movie, since I fell asleep for a bit I don’t even really know what’s going on.”

He slipped unobtrusively out the door, leaving Rabi to stare blankly after him. On the TV, the school nurse’s ex-girlfriend decided to confess that she was still in love with him, despite the fact that the serial killer was trying to hammer down the door to the room where they were hiding. Rabi let himself fall into a slump as he gazed at the screen with glassy eyes.

“He doesn’t love you,” he mumbled, telling himself he was commenting on the movie. “Not like you love him. Don’t be stupid, don’t push it. Just be happy being friends.”

The ex-girlfriend didn’t listen to him, forcing a kiss from the nurse before flinging the door open to sacrifice herself to the serial killer on his behalf. Rabi sighed, sitting up a little straighter as he heard footsteps down the hall.

“I bought that rum cream coffee you like so much,” Ajay said, his voice edged with concentration as he tried to carry two of Rabi’s mugs in without spilling their contents. The DJ scrambled off the bed, taking one of them off his hands.

“Dude, what? That’s expensive stuff, you don’t even buy it for yourself and I know you love it.”

“You love it too,” Ajay chuckled, taking a sip to encourage Rabi to do the same. “And I wasn’t going to skimp on treating you after what you’ve been through.”

“Oh my God,” Rabi mumbled into his cup, his eyes fluttering closed as he curled his toes into the crappy, pilling carpet of his bedroom floor. “Is there vanilla ice cream in this? Did you put my favorite fucking flavor of ice cream into my favorite kind of coffee? You know this is wasted on me.” He took another sip, more like a gulp this time, heedless of the way the hot liquid bubbled up from underneath the ice cream covering it and burned his mouth and tongue. “ _Ooohhhh_ my _God_ , Ajay. You should get away from me while you still can and go find someone who appreciates you.”

Ajay smiled, the steam from his cup curling up between them, and Rabi quashed the passing thought that it should be illegal for anyone to look so attractive in jeans (though Ajay did seem to favor _very_ snug jeans) and a hoodie. His was black and a zip-up, but it was edged in the same shade of vibrant canary yellow as Rabi’s pullover. In the dark of Rabi’s bedroom, it made Ajay sort of blend with the shadows, giving his presence a slightly ethereal quality.

“Yeah, well,” he said softly, just audible over the dramatic orchestral cues and screaming that indicated the serial killer had claimed another victim, “there’s not anybody else I’m really interested in.”

On the TV, the nurse’s ex-girlfriend swooned. Rabi would have copied her, except that he’d just showered and didn’t want to spill ice cream coffee all over himself. So instead, he curled his fingers hard around his mug, frantically trying to come up with an appropriate reaction to what had been said and in the process having no real reaction at all. Ajay, seemingly unaffected, came to sit on the edge of Rabi’s bed, taking another sip from his mug once he was comfortable.

“Oh, the nurse guy is still alive?” he said inquisitively. “I thought he would’ve died a while ago,” and Rabi made a strangled noise and turned to snatch up the remote.

“No, no,” he exclaimed, putting down his coffee and pausing the movie on an unattractive shot of the nurse in mid-shout. “No, we are - we’re gonna talk about this, we’re gonna talk about - about what you just _said_ , because if you just said what I _think_ you just said, then - ”

He broke off, choking on everything he wanted to say all at once, and Ajay made a sound into his silence. It was a sound Rabi was intimately familiar with, one he had made dozens of times whenever it seemed like his feelings weren’t reciprocated. It came out like a tiny breathy half-laugh, but in reality it was the sound of a heart breaking just a little bit.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ajay said, and his voice held no hint of the kind of emotions that were to be expected in the voice of a man who had presumably just had his advances shot down. “Tonight’s about you, right? Let’s drink dessert and finish the movie. You can fill me in on what happened - ”

“ _Fuck_ the movie,” Rabi interrupted him eloquently, sitting down next to Ajay on the bed. “Tonight’s about me? Then let me say what I wanna say. Which is - ” He stopped and inhaled sharply, trying to collect himself before ultimately deciding to throw caution to the wind. “I like you, man. A lot. Like, maybe _more_ than a lot, because lately when we hang out it’s hard for me to think about anything except you, and your hands, and your lips, and some other maybe less savory parts of your body. And I might have acted like I didn’t really want to see you tonight, but it was mostly because I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from saying something really stupid, probably something a lot like what I’m saying right now honestly, but if I like you and you like mmm _mmmeeee -- !”_

Ajay pulled back, smiling with the same lips he had just pressed to Rabi’s in a quick, chaste kiss. “Drink your coffee,” he ordered the DJ, and Rabi didn’t realize that Ajay had stolen the remote along with the rest of his heart until the movie started playing again.

Rabi drank his coffee and explained what Ajay had missed, his descriptions getting more complex and animated as the caffeine kicked in. Finally, he reached the current point in the film and settled into silence, albeit a somewhat jittery silence. He and Ajay had both moved back on his bed, sitting against the wall with their legs folded in front of them; despite it being a difficult position to do so from, Rabi ended up bouncing his knee anyway, a display of nervous energy that was in no way alleviated when Ajay put his hand on it to get him to stop. He missed the initial reveal of the serial killer’s face because he was distracted by the length of Ajay’s fingers and the way their tips were pressing into his skin through his jeans; acting half on a whim and half from calculated intimacy, he laid his own hand on top of Ajay’s and laced his fingers through the gaps between the other man’s.

“I can’t believe it was the nurse’s brother,” Ajay said, sounding irritated. “That’s so cheap. They told us he was dead! You can’t just make a dead guy your antagonist, like of course we’re gonna be surprised when it’s revealed because we thought he was _dead_. He wasn’t even on my list of potential people to be the murderer!”

“It’s just a movie, bro,” Rabi chuckled, and immediately had concerns about whether or not “bro” was an appropriate address for a guy he’d touched lips with. Ajay didn’t seem to share these concerns, yawning as he pushed off the bed and stood up again.

“Okay, but people paid good money for that movie if they went to see it in theaters. If I’d paid for it, I’d be pissed. Well, more pissed. I might not be an English major, but I know what counts as good writing, and that wasn’t it.” Against his will, he yawned again, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ugh. Okay, are you done with your cup?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rabi said, offering it to him. “Why? You just gonna take it into the kitchen?”

“Yeah, I figured I should do the dishes before it gets too late,” Ajay responded absently, smothering yet another yawn with the back of his sleeve. Rabi, who recoiled from the concept of doing dishes at all times of the day and night, stared at him.

“Wha - dude, it’s like midnight!” He glanced at his TV, checking the time floating in the corner of the menu screen. “It’s one in the morning! That’s too late to do dishes!”

“Oh - I guess I meant before it’s too late for me and I fall asleep,” Ajay answered with a slight chuckle. “I’m sure the caffeine from that dessert will kick in soon enough, but right now I’m crashing a little, so  - ”

“Don’t do the dishes,” Rabi blurted. “Forget it. I’ll do them in the morning. Just - I kind of like this.” He gestured vaguely, expansively, indicating the entire sweep of the room from the TV to the bed. “You, me, shitty movies in the dark. We should do it again sometime. Preferably right now. No dishes involved. We could even lie down this time, if you’re really tired. I know you got up super early.”

Ajay was silent for a long moment, and then in the glow from the TV screen, Rabi saw him smile. “Rabi Ray Rana,” he said sharply. “Are you asking me to come to bed with you?”

Rabi had never genuinely forgotten how to speak before, but apparently there was a first time for everything. He felt himself be overcome by a full-body blush that burned up every cell of skin he possessed, all while his mouth hung open stupidly and he choked on every word that came to mind; finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he responded to the question.

“Yes. I mean, no - not like that - not right _now_ , anyway, but if you wanted to - you know - _later_ \- are we dating now? Is this us dating? I’m a little unclear. If you don’t want it to be dating, that’s uh, okay it’s not really _fine_ , but I’ll get over it, you know, I bounce back pretty quick, but I’d - really like it to be - uh - ”

Ajay set both mugs down on top of Rabi’s dresser, which was doing double duty as his bedside table. “Big spoon or little spoon?”

“I try not to discriminate when it comes to size,” Rabi responded, and could have kicked himself, except he was aggressively distracted by Ajay letting out a genuine laugh.

“Okay, well, I’m taller than you, so I call big spoon.” And then Ajay was crawling onto Rabi’s bed, moving his pillows from the head of the mattress to the foot, which was more directly in line of view of the television. “Pick another serial killer movie. I like those.”

“What, serial killers?” Rabi asked, and earned himself a smack on the shoulder.

Settling down took them a couple of minutes, which seemed much longer to Rabi due to the amount of wriggling around and hitching of his hips that Ajay was doing. Finally, however, they found a reasonable arrangement that both of them could agree upon, and Rabi started the movie.

By the time they were halfway through the intro, Rabi had learned that Ajay was much better at cuddling than he had bargained for - not that he was complaining at all. One of Ajay’s legs had draped itself over both of Rabi’s, effectively pinning him in place; as a blonde jock started screaming on the TV, horrified at the sight of his basketball bro getting run through with a machete, Ajay’s arm snaked over Rabi’s hips and locked loosely around his waist.

“Yeah,” he murmured suddenly, and Rabi jumped at the unexpected sensation of the taller man pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Before he could ask _yeah, what?_ , Ajay continued. “This is us dating.”

The moment was beautiful, something straight out of a teen romance flick. Anyone else would have reveled in it, soaked it in, enjoyed it in silence for what it was. Rabi let a little Ghibli movie-esque shiver of delight curl his toes and run straight up his spine; if he’d been an animated character, his hair would have poofed out to show his delight before relaxing back down again. Then, gaze fixed to the TV screen and the sight of the local town sheriff finding the jock and his bro’s bodies, he said:

“Not now, boner.”

He realized he’d said it _out loud_ when Ajay nearly deafened him with an explosive burst of unexpected laughter, the bed shaking as he tried to stifle it. Rabi groaned, twisting his head so that his face was buried in the blankets.

“It’s - it’s not the _worst_ thing you could have said,” Ajay managed between snickers, and Rabi moved his face to both take a breath and demand,

“What the hell is the _worst_ thing?!”

“I have no idea,” Ajay said, and Rabi could hear the smile in his voice. “You could have wiggled your butt and said ‘well come here then, big boy’ or something like that.”

“Oh, God. That _would_ have been worse.”

After that, the two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Ajay seemed content to lie still and enjoy the movie; for his part, Rabi was committing every moment to memory. After the day he’d had, it seemed impossible that it would have ended like this - and yet, inconceivably, losing his money had found him a boyfriend.

The DJ usually had pretty nasty insomnia, a trait which contributed to his off-the-cuff personality and train of constant commentary; tonight, however, it seemed nonexistent. Maybe it was because he crashed from his earlier sugar rush, or maybe it was the warmth of Ajay’s hand against his stomach and the other man’s steady breathing against his back, but either way Rabi had no recollection of falling into the deepest sleep he’d had in months. 

*

He woke up in an unexpected frenzy to the clamor of his alarm, which was set to some dubstep song with an easy lead-up that dropped abruptly into a hard party bass in case he didn’t hear it at first. His hand shot out, reaching for where he usually plugged his phone in on top of his dresser, and hit thin air; still half asleep, he figured all he had to do was reach a little further, pushing himself up on one elbow and stretching out his arm without opening his eyes. Then they flew open in a panic as he learned that he was at the complete opposite end of his bed from his dresser, had over-reached, and was quickly becoming reacquainted with gravity.

It wasn’t like he fell very far, but falling out of bed was hardly a lucrative start to any morning, and his alarm was still blaring. Disgruntled, grumpy, and disoriented, Rabi pushed himself up to his feet and started looking for the source of the noise. When he finally found it, it was plugged in on top of some neatly stacked papers on his desk, which was on the complete opposite side of his room.

“Shouldn’t set a daily alarm if you’re gonna forget to turn it off on the weekends, Rabi,” he grumbled at himself. Common sense said to go back to bed - there was no reason for him to be up or even conscious at 7:30 on a Saturday - but his body said he’d gotten his usual 4-ish hours of sleep, so it was time to do things.

Ruffling a hand through his own hair, Rabi yawned and opened his bedroom door, padding down the hallway into the kitchen. He stopped in the kitchen entrance, blinking at his hazy gaze took it in.

“Something’s………. different,” he mumbled, and then like a one-two combination punch, he simultaneously realized that the difference was that it was clean and remembered the previous night.

“What the hell are you _screaming_ about,” Chotu snapped, closing the front door behind him. He was clearly just coming home; there were dark circles under his eyes, his chin-length hair was halfway out of the sloppy ponytail he’d pulled it into at some point, and there were hickeys and lipstick smears down the side of his neck going past the collar of his shirt.

“ _I have a boyfriend_ ,” Rabi responded in tones just shy of a screech. He had gone from barely conscious to wide awake in a matter of milliseconds.

“Is that all? It’s about damn time,” his housemate said. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Don’t bother me. If anyone asks, I’m not home all day.”

“ _I don’t care_ ,” Rabi answered, and then caught sight of the note on the fridge. “Oh my _God_ , he left me a _note_.” He snatched at it, the force with which he pulled it off sending the magnet flying off and skittering away under some of the cabinetry. “He could have texted or not said anything but he left me a hand! Written! _Note_!”

“You should work out,” Chotu called from down the hall. “It would help you get rid of some of that nervous energy.”

Rabi ignored him, his lips moving a mile a minute as he read the note to himself under his breath.

**_Rabi, sorry I had to leave, work called to ask if I could pick up an extra shift and you know I need the money. At the cafe - come see me for a free coffee! XOXO AJ_ **

“I love him,” the DJ proclaimed to the apartment at large. “I love his perfect hair, and his perfect jawline that’s like cut stone, and his perfect eyes. What else is perfect? His ass. His personality. His d - ”

“A condition of me not being here all day is that you _shut up_ ,” Chotu hollered from the shower. Rabi’s mouth snapped shut with a sharp _click_ , but it wasn’t long before it spread into a huge smile.

“Oh my God,” he murmured. Pulling his phone out of his hoodie pocket, he thumbed into his chat string with Ajay, hovering over the empty white text box for a moment before shooting off a message.

_Good morning :)_

He hadn’t even gotten back to his bedroom yet before he received a reply.

**_Good morning! U comin for that coffee?_ **

Rabi Ray Rana had never seen himself as a man to melt over a text message, but he was pretty sure that some of his heart had just dripped out onto the floor. Bounding into the bathroom, he hammered on the door that separated the toilet from the sinks.

“CHOTU! I texted him good morning and he texted me back, do you wanna know what he said?”

“Whatever it was, if it gets you out of the house, say yes,” Chotu thundered back. Nearly tripping over his own feet in his attempt to walk and skip at the same time, Rabi made his way back to his room, words materializing on his phone screen.

_YOU BET YOUR SWEET (VERY SWEET, VERY NICE, 10/10) ASS I AM_

He didn’t get a response until after he’d changed, pulling on a pair of actual pants and some socks. His phone buzzed while he was lacing his sneakers, and he snatched it up, nearly dropping it in his haste to swipe up the lock screen.

“I’m going to die,” he mumbled, shoving his phone back into his hoodie and snatching his wallet off his dresser on his way out the door. “I don’t think I can take it. This kills the man. I’m too young for this, Ajay. At least let me get my college degree before I die. Rude.”

Had he not been hungover and in the shower, Chotu might have told him that his reaction was out of proportion for a simple emoji. But he wasn’t, so he didn’t, and Rabi practically floated out of their apartment on a cloud.

.

.

.

**_< 3_ **

**Author's Note:**

> I literally didn't plan to write this, it just happened. Any comments you happen to leave would greatly validate me in the creation of whatever I just posted. Please help
> 
> also obligatory heart emoji <3 <3 I love you and Ajay does too


End file.
